


This fire won't let me sleep

by Kimiko_Suzumiya



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Don't Judge Me, M/M, Rollo terrifies me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 16:54:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17871089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimiko_Suzumiya/pseuds/Kimiko_Suzumiya
Summary: Rollo is a simple man: he enjoys killing, good ale, and women.Now he has discovered a new thing that he likes. The only problem is that, once again, his brother has beaten him, taking possession of what he desires.But Rollo can wait. He is not a patient man, nonetheless, there is a conviction that the results would be much more satisfying.





	This fire won't let me sleep

Rollo was a simple man. He enjoyed killing as much as any of the other men that surrounded him, it was an indescribable sensation, a frenzy that possessed his mind with hot, white, pure…pleasure. He never felt as good as he did when cutting someone down with his sword and covering himself with his enemy’s warm blood.

So, when his dear brother stopped him from killing that little pathetic priest, he was incredibly furious. Not just due to the fact that Ragnar thought that he could give him orders, but also because he wanted, **_needed_** , to kill the wimp.

He had already slaughtered a number of priests, but none of them had even tried to fight back. Oh no. They were just running like coward rats, screaming nonsense and begging for their lives. Rollo didn’t need to speak their language to understand that part.

And now he was left completely unsatisfied, unable to kill that Christian boy, and also unable to find any woman to fuck.

Rollo thought that he’ll feel better once he got to Kattegat, but then the Earl decided to take all of their treasure and, even worse, his brother chose to keep the priest as a slave. He couldn’t understand why, and he would have paid Ragnar for the pleasure of killing the priest. But he knew his stupid brother would never allow it. The idiot was already infatuated with the little shit. He saw it since the first moment, that fascination that covered Ragnar’s deep blue eyes when looking at the priest. Disgusting.

As days passed by, he found some distraction in drinking and women, but then he was invited to join his brother’s family for supper. Apparently, their new slave was good at cooking fish. Ha. Yes, because surely that was the reason why Ragnar decided to keep him instead of gold and silver. No, Rollo suspected that the real reason was more related to his pretty face and pert, cute ass.

Well, you cannot blame a man for having eyes, can you?

**********************************************

“Athelstan”, Ragnar’s voice called him from outside.

The Viking had been working all day, farming, attending to the animals and also… attending to his wife’s needs. He was glistening with sweat and looked pretty exhausted already. Athelstan tried to ignore him, because, for some unknown reason, the view was more enticing than it ought to be. For the nineteenth time that day (yes, he was counting), he whispered a silent prayer to God to help him avoid temptation.

But Ragnar wasn’t making things easy for him, the heathen always knew exactly what the priest was thinking, and he took great pleasure in torturing him with constant insinuating grins and soft touches to his hair, cheeks or shoulders. Sometimes he even surprised him with a hug from behind, strong arms wrapped around his waist, and hot breath caressing his ear.

“Athelstan, I need your help.”

He knew that he couldn’t deny his master, so he left what he was doing to go help him, only after a deep, tired sigh. Supper would have to wait, even though Rollo was coming soon, and he still had to finish preparing the meal. He was a bit scared of Ragnar’s brother and of what he might do if his fish was uncooked, or too salty… or maybe the spices were too much… he should probably ask Ragnar about his brother’s preferences regarding fish.

“Why do you have that face?”

Well, of all the questions he expected Ragnar to ask, that one certainly was not on the list.

“Umm… what?”

“You look scared, and worried… did something happen?”

After the two weeks that passed since that horrible day when he was taken from the monastery, he was still surprised at how easily Ragnar could see right through him, and especially how… he seemed to honestly care for his well-being as if he were more a friend than a slave.

He thought about just telling him the truth _:_

_I’m terrified of your brother killing me over an uncooked fish._

And also:

_I’m confused about you, because I know what you want from me and I’m afraid that I want it too, but I cannot even think about it without feeling the fear of God’s wrath._

“Nothing happened”, he smiled, “What is that you need me for?”

Ragnar studied his expression for a short moment as if trying to find a lie in his words.

“Come here”, he said, finally.

The Viking briefly explained how he wanted his assistance to pull out some weed that was damaging the plantations. Of course, Athelstan thought it was weird that Ragnar just stood there watching him struggling with the plants (he still couldn’t tell the difference between the useless weed and the rest). The priest was down on his knees, with a serious expression on his face, seemingly focused on his task, but he was alarmingly aware of Ragnar’s intense gaze.  He was about to ask him to stop looking and help him when he realized Ragnar was right behind him.

The blush that covered his face made him feel as if his whole face was burning. There was no mistaking as to what had caught Ragnar’s attention. He stood up, babbling something about preparing supper and run away like a scared little puppy.

Every single day he felt more and more as a pet, only useful for entertaining Ragnar (and occasionally his family), even though sometimes he deluded himself thinking that the Vikings liked him and that maybe someday they’ll give him back his freedom.

But, in the end, he knew that Gyda was the only one that truly liked him, and she had no power to give him anything except affection. And that should be enough.

He still hoped though, because surely God had plans for him that involved more than being a slave to a group of heathens.

 

*****

When Rollo arrived at the farm, a sweet, delicious smell invaded his nostrils. He never thought fish could smell so good. Fucking priest. He was sitting between Gyda and Bjorn as if he _belonged_ there, and, damn him for that, he should be sitting on the floor, eating whatever unwanted food remained after the family was done.

He laughed hard when Bjorn told him that the fish was the worst he ever had, even though it was obviously a lie, the boy had finished his meal long time ago, but was too proud to admit it. Gyda, however, scolded her brother and told the priest is was actually the best fish she had ever tried, meanwhile, Lagertha pretended to be offended by it, but couldn’t really hide her smile.

“So, you know how to cook, what else can you do, priest?”, he heard himself asking with spite, and had to resist the urge to cringe when Ragnar and Lagertha stared angrily at him. Defensive. Even Gyda was looking at him with a warning in his usually sweet blue eyes.

The silence was oppressive for a moment until Gyda said:

“He knows stories that I’ve never heard before! And songs!”

“Very useful, isn’t he?”

“Rollo…”, his brother was practically growling at him. What was wrong with this people? Getting so offended on behalf of a slave? He had no right…

The only one that seemed to have some sense left was Bjorn, who smiled at his uncle as if saying: _I know, right?_

The priest couldn’t even face him, he was staring at his lap, biting his lower lip and Rollo had never, ever, felt such a strong urge to hit someone. Not in any of the raids, not even when his brother infuriated him to the point that all he could see was red.

He had to, or he would die. But, at that moment he knew that he wouldn’t be able to touch the Christian before someone stopped him.

No, he would wait. It was a difficult thing to do. Waiting.

Nonetheless, Rollo was convinced that the results would be much more satisfying.

 


End file.
